


Nothing a Little Cake Can't Solve

by DreamsinPink



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gift Exchange, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsinPink/pseuds/DreamsinPink
Summary: Howdy, friends! Here we have a little one-shot I wrote for Queen Risa for the UsaMamo Valentine's Day Exchange organized by Antigone2. I had wanted to write something like this for a long time, and when I saw who I was gifting to, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity. :)





	Nothing a Little Cake Can't Solve

                Usagi Tsukino was having a horrible week.

                It all started Sunday night, which was spent studying tirelessly for a psychology mid-term the following day.  Her late-night cram session resulted in very little of retained information and sent her spiraling back to her high school days of shrill alarms and rushed mornings. Unable to concentrate, the mid-term went worse than expected. Reeling with disappointment, she spent another long night perfecting an essay for her sociology class, only to realize she was already five days passed the deadline. On Wednesday, the man she had been seeing ended things – not a real loss, but it stung nonetheless. And now here she was, wandering aimlessly through the city streets because in pure Usagi fashion, she had missed her bus.

                “I thought things were supposed to get easier,” she mumbled, feet dragging against the pavement. Focus drawn to her feet, she noticed her steps were soon joined by patterns of wet drops.        

                “Why?” she whined as the skies opened, and rain began to fall. Sprinting the sidewalk, bag overhead, she sought refuge under a bright pink awning. Usagi turned to find herself staring straight into a window filled with decadent desserts. Her breath fogged the glass as she ogled the mountains of pastries, and towering cakes. She could taste their sweetness on her tongue; from the smooth custard of the eclairs to the rich cream puff filling. If she hadn’t left her wallet at home, she could have eaten her feelings away.

Usagi gasped, feeling a warmth spread across her shoulder, muscles tensing at the touch. Her eyes darted up to find a familiar face reflected in the window.

                “Mamoru!” Usagi yelled.  “You scared the crap out of me,” she breathed, silently cursing the fates; of _course_ Mamoru would show up now.

                “You have a little…” He motioned to the corner of his mouth, teasing her with a playful wink.

                “Shut up.” She rolled her eyes and wiped her lips, finding nothing there.

                His smirk faded when her usual fire refused to ignite. “What are you doing here?”

                “Escaping the rain.” She frowned at the darkened sky and turned her attention back to the showcase.  “Running away from my life,” she sighed, allowing her forehead to fall dramatically against the glass. Mamoru’s heart ached for her, begging him to muster the courage to ask what was wrong.

                “Are you two here for the free cake tasting?” A middle-aged woman popped out from the shop entrance, her fiery hair woven into an elegant braid.  She briefly inspected the couple, noting Mamoru’s expensive watch and designer shoes, and decided they were her ideal cliental.

                Hearing nothing but the words _free_ and _cake_ , Usagi’s face brightened. “Yes!” she exclaimed, troubles instantly forgotten.

                “Well come in, come in,” the woman ushered, grinning broadly as she waved them through the threshold of the store.

Usagi inhaled the vanilla aroma of the air and felt the stress of the past week begin to dissipate. She fell in love with the pastel walls and white trim, stopping to admire the gallery of colorful dessert paintings that decorated the space. Mamoru watched as the girl flitted about, blonde hair following playfully behind her, appreciating her antics behind a veil of indifference.

“Your shop is lovely!” Usagi cooed, marveling at a colourful macaron pyramid.  

                “Thank you!” The woman beamed. “I’m Mariko.”

                “Usagi,” she said with a slight bow before gesturing to the man standing beside her, “and this is Mamoru.”

                “You two make a beautiful couple,” Mariko said, causing them to exchange an awkward glance. “So, when’s the big day?”  

                Usagi’s forehead crinkled; it wasn’t the first time she had been mistaken for Mamoru’s girlfriend, and she certainly wasn’t about to correct the lady giving out free cake, but what did a date have to do with anything?  “June 30th,” she said, voice rising with a hint of uncertainty. Perhaps the woman assumed they were throwing a party.

                “That’s a wonderful time of year for a wedding!” Mariko clapped, and Usagi paled, swallowing in realization. “And have you chosen a venue?”

                “No, no venue yet.” Her voice cracked, and she plastered on a smile, avoiding Mamoru’s steely glare.

                “Plenty of time for that, I’m sure you’ll find something just perfect.” Mariko said as Usagi nodded along. “Come, let me get you seated.”

She lead them to room in the back with tall windows and a crystal chandelier. Sets of tables for two were done up with crisp linens and polished dishware, and a buffet table stood along the back housing the most beautiful cakes Usagi had ever seen.

“Help yourselves to some tea, and I’ll be back shortly with the first round of the samples,” Mariko said, before rushing off through a set of white doors.

“Did you hear that?” Usagi bubbled. “ _First_ round. How many rounds do you think there are?” Her eyes sparkled with delight, deciding that this was the universe rewarding her perseverance – even if Mamoru was along for the ride.

“Odango, she thinks we’re engaged,” Mamoru whispered.

                “So? Free cake,” Usagi hissed, brows drawn in determination – there was no way Mamoru was ruining this for her. “Can’t you just play along?”

“I don’t – “ Words seized as Usagi laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Please?” Her eyes wavered, and chin tilted downwards. “I know spending time with me isn’t what you really want to be doing on a Friday afternoon, but I’ve been having such a horrible week, and–”

                “Fine.” He sighed, ignoring the urge to correct her.  “I’ll play along.” It wasn’t as arduous a task as he’d have her believe. Mamoru picked up the teapot and held it above her cup. “Would you care for some tea, darling Odango?” he offered, tone alluring and low.

                “Very funny,” Usagi said, sitting back in her chair and wishing the butterflies away. “If we’re going to make this convincing, no calling me Odango.” She shook a stern finger in his direction. “Got it?”

                “Why not?”

                “It’s ridiculous.”

                “It’s an endearing pet name!” he insisted.

                “It is not an endearing pet name,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

                “Yes, it is, _Odango_.” Mamoru grinned, and Usagi seethed, the heat beginning to rise on her cheeks.

                “Mamoru-ba–“ noticing Mariko quickly approaching, Usagi adjusted.  “–chan, Mamo-chan, this was such a great idea.” She flashed a saccharine smile as Mamoru choked on a mouthful of tea.

                “Let me guess,” Mariko held a finger to her lips, “high-school sweethearts?”

“Something like that,” Mamoru replied, offering no further information.

“I can always tell,” she bragged, sliding two pieces of cake onto the table. “Here are your first

samples. We have a lemon twist, and a coconut lime,” she explained pointing at each respectively. “Bon appétit!”

Usagi’s breath caught in her throat; this had by far been the best thing she had mistakenly said

yes to.   “They look so good,” she squealed, rubbing her hands together. After much deliberation she took a careful bite of the coconut lime, allowing the flavours to settle on her tongue.

                “Well?” Mamoru asked as Usagi squinted thoughtfully, head cocked to the side.

                “Let me try the other one first.”

                “You’re taking this seriously.”

                “It’s the only way to do a cake tasting, Mamoru,” she said, as if she were an expert.

                “What happened to Mamo-chan?” He sounded almost hurt.

                Ignoring his comment and the ember of hope it ignited, she dove into the lemon twist. Her eyes widened, and she fell back into her chair.

                “This is the kind of cake they serve in heaven,” she mumbled, savouring each bite. Mamoru chuckled at the look of pure bliss on her porcelain face. “You have to try it.” She pushed what little was left towards Mamoru.

                “It’s good,” he agreed, yet Usagi was unimpressed at his lack of enthusiasm.

“Any favourites so far?” Mariko interrupted, hands held neatly in front of her frilly apron.

                “The lemon twist,” Usagi said, “it was divine.”

                “Well, the others sure have a lot to live up to!” Mariko laughed, and gathered the empty plates. “Let me get you a refill on the tea.”

                “Divine?” Mamoru smirked, brow raised in amusement.

                “It _was_ ,” she defended, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She hated when he did that; it made it much harder to deny that she found him attractive.

                “I’m impressed.”

                “I’m an impressive woman.”

                Mamoru nodded slowly, suddenly unable to remember any of the reasons he had concocted over the years to not date Usagi. At first it was that she was too young, too immature. He pretended that she annoyed him, because it was easier than letting her in. Relationships had never been Mamoru’s forte, so he did what he could to keep them at arm’s length. Close enough to be sustainable, yet far enough to be comfortable.

“That you are.” Usagi blushed, and waited for the inevitable insult, growing wary when it never came.

 

                Their silence was broken by Mariko’s return. “There we go,” she said, placing the freshly brewed pot between them. “Now before the next couple of samples, I have to ask,” she paused to inhale in anticipation. “May I see the ring?”

                “The ring?” Mamoru echoed, looking panicked at his fake-fiancée.

“I just love jewellery, _especially_ engagement rings.” Mariko’s hands flailed emphatically, reminding Usagi of an old-fashioned starlet. “I have four of them myself,” Mariko added with a wink.

                “Of course!” Usagi beamed, pulling her hand from under the table, and fanning her fingers in a proud display. Mamoru shook his head, instantly recognizing the piece.

                “It’s gorgeous!” Mariko held Usagi’s hand in her own, inspecting the ring with a careful eye. It was an unusual choice to mark and engagement, with its ruby setting and platinum band, but beautiful nevertheless.

                “He does have wonderful taste,” Usagi agreed, subtly raising a pointed brow at Mamoru’s infamous green blazar. He frowned and adjusted the collar; she had been after him to get rid of the jacket for years.  

                Mariko smiled, and laid on the extra charm. “Of course, he does, he chose you.”

Usagi bit her lip, fighting to conceal the sting.  

                Mamoru leaned in as soon as Mariko was out of earshot. “Nice move with the ring,” he said, figuring she must have switched fingers underneath the table.

                “Thanks,” Usagi muttered, disappointment remerging. “It was actually a gift –“

                “From your father for your eighteenth birthday, I know.” He reached across the table, lifting her fingertips with his, and running a thumb over the piece of jewellery.

                “How did you know that?”

                “I think the whole Crown Arcade knew,” he joked, “I do pay attention.” Usagi felt like a deer caught in headlights, stuck in his stormy gaze. Her heart pounded as she remained silent with bated breath. They were treading into uncomfortable territory; the limbo they had reached so many times before, yet failed to move beyond, always retreating to their individual corners.  

 

                Mamoru’s hand retracted as Mariko remerged, the moment shattered and reality crashing down upon them.

“All right, for our next sampling, we have red velvet and German chocolate.” Two new slices sat proudly before them, both rich in colour and texture. “Now remember, we can custom make our cakes to an appropriate size,” Mariko said, her sales pitch lost on the couple. “Do you know roughly how many people will be attending?”

                Her question drew Usagi back into the charade, and she shook her head to clear away the rampant thoughts. “It’ll be a fairly small wedding. Maybe around a hundred people?” She lowered her voice, “he doesn’t have many friends,” she added, jumping back into the safety net of petty jabs.

                “We have a lot of _mutual_ friends,” Mamoru said, jaw clenching and attention never leaving Usagi’s face – she wasn’t getting away that easily.

                “I understand completely.” Mariko shared a knowing nod with Usagi before returning to the kitchen.

                “Go on,” Usagi urged, gesturing to a slice with her fork.

                “What?”

                “I know you want the chocolate one,” she said, mouth curling into a knowing grin. “I pay attention, too.” As Usagi started on the red velvet, Mamoru smiled, more than happy to oblige. When he had finished a few bites, Usagi’s fork ventured over, only to be pushed away.

                “I’m not sharing this with you,” Mamoru said, shoveling a bigger piece into his mouth. “It’s too good.”

                “Hey!” Her arm flew across the table, and she stabbed wildly at the dessert. “Mamoru, that’s not fair!” He slid the plate further from her grasp.

                Usagi leapt to her feet, stalking to Mamoru’s side, yet he held her at bay with his arm.

                “I will stab you with this fork,” Usagi threatened, utensil clutched in her fist.

                “No, you won’t.” Determined to be taken seriously, Usagi jabbed the prongs into his skin, causing Mamoru to pull back in surprise, sending Usagi into his lap, and her arm into the remaining bites of chocolate cake. Without a moment’s hesitation, Mamoru grabbed her arm, removing the offending icing with his tongue.

                “Mamoru!” Usagi gasped, electricity running up her spine, her face flushing red.

“I told you I wasn’t sharing it.” She could feel his voice vibrate through his chest, warm, and soothing.

                “You two can barely keep your hands off each other!” Mariko giggled, sending Usagi scurrying back to her chair, using her napkin to wipe away the residue. “You remind me so much of my second husband and myself.” She sighed, palm splayed across her cheek, and bangles clanging as she moved. “You know, he proposed to me on the beach in Hawaii.”

                “That sounds so romantic!” Usagi grinned, a plan for payback in her mind. “Mamo-chan! You should tell her how you proposed,” she challenged, unable to still the erratic beat of her heart.

                “I’m sure Mariko doesn’t want to hear about that,” he said through gritted teeth.

                “Don’t be silly, I’d love to!” Mariko grabbed a chair from a nearby table and plopped down.

                “Well,” Mamoru swallowed, casting a angry glare in Usagi’s direction, “one of our early dates was to the botanical gardens, about five years ago,” he explained, pausing to glance at Usagi who furrowed her brow – she remembered that outing. Only it hadn’t been a date, but a group of friends forcing them together to negotiate, what they referred to as a peace treaty. “So, I rented out the gardens one night. I had strung up lights beforehand, and we took a walk down the pathways.” He paused to look at Usagi, who listened intently, eyes wide. “I had a picnic prepared in the rose terrace, roses are her favourite.” Usagi’s lips parted in surprise. “And after dinner I asked her to marry me. They even let us keep one of the roses.”  Mamoru smiled, pleased with his efforts, convinced it would have been a night that Usagi enjoyed.

                “That’s beautiful,” Mariko breathed, wiping a tear from her eye. “You are a very lucky woman.”

                Rendered speechless, Usagi simply nodded; it sounded perfect.

                “Goodness me, let me go get those last samples for you!” Mariko jumped from her seat, pushing the chair back to its partner.

                “So…” Mamoru said, after a much-prolonged silence. “Are you still seeing Keisuke?” The question caused Usagi to roll her eyes, and the enchantment of his proposal quickly faded.

                “Kosuke,” she corrected. “Why do you always do that?” she asked, raising her palms in irritation; back to old habits.

                “Do what?” Mamoru ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

                “Anytime I’m seeing someone you get their name wrong.”

                “I do not,” he huffed, fully aware that he had been caught.

                “You do too,” Usagi insisted. “Minako says it’s to disparage them.” She pressed her lips together, waiting for a confession.

                “Whatever.” He waved the accusation off with a shake of his hand; he hated when Minako was right.

“We broke up,” she said, knee bouncing underneath the table. “Don’t pretend like you care. You didn’t like him anyways.” She averted her gaze, busying herself by pouring another cup of tea.

                Mamoru inhaled, expression softening. “I do care.” When their eyes finally met, he held her gaze. “But you’re right, I didn’t like him,” he admitted. The truth was he didn’t like any of them.

                “At least I go on dates,” Usagi managed, fighting to return to familiar territory.

                “I go on dates.”

                “Studying at the library does not count as a date.”

                “Then what would you suggest?” Mamoru asked, and Usagi cursed; there was that look again.

                “What?”

                “What would we do on a date?” he rephrased, watching her shift uncomfortably in her seat. “ _Odango_.”

“We – “

                “Now I’ve saved my favourite for last!” Mariko sang, hurrying back into the dining room. Mamoru frowned, and Usagi breathed in relief. “We have a classic vanilla, and Usagi, dear, I think you’ll adore this one, pink champagne.”

                “Pink champagne?” Usagi repeated, curiosity piqued as she stared at the brightly coloured confection – the shade was just right.

                Mariko leaned in, lowering her voice as if spilling a secret. “It’s really made with champagne. Enjoy!”

                They began their final slices in quiet, emotions charged and fearing the uncertainty of their situation. With her first taste, Usagi knew she was in love, and she let out an appreciative sigh.

                “You know how I said the lemon twist was the cake they served in heaven?”

                “Mhmm.”

                “I was wrong, it’s this one.”

                “Is it divine?” he mocked, but Usagi was too elated to care.

                “It’s better.” Breaking off a piece on her fork, she held it out for him to take. “See, I find sharing rewarding,” she added.

                “I found not sharing very rewarding,” he countered, and Usagi could feel the tips of her ears turning rose. “Do you know what would make this even better?”

                “What?” Her brow furrowed.

                “Chocolate icing.”  Usagi shrugged, mouth curving into a smile; she liked this version of Mamoru. A lot.

                Noticing the two were finished, Mariko rushed over, ready to clench the sale. “So, do we have any decisions?”

                “Well, we do like the pink champagne,” Usagi said, “but – Mamo-chan here would prefer chocolate for the…” She could never use the word icing again. “…topping.”

                “Excellent choice, and of course! All of our cakes are completely customizable!” Mariko boasted, eager to please.

                Worried he might be ending up with a very expensive wedding cake on his hands, Mamoru interjected. “We do need to get a final count on our numbers and take a look at the budget before making any commitments.”

                “Of course, that’s only sensible.” Mariko reached into apron pocket. “Here’s my card for when you’re ready to order.”

                “Thank you so much, it was such a treat,” Usagi grasped the woman’s hand, shaking it emphatically.

                “My pleasure, you make a lovely couple,” she said, unaware that their relationship had been a ruse. “Stop in anytime, even just for a quick snack!”

                “I will – we will.” Usagi promised.

 

                Outside the rain had lifted, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of spring. The couple walked to the corner, stopping for the light to change, neither knowing where to start.

                “It was pretty fun being engaged to you today,” Usagi said, unable to stand the tension any longer.

                “It was fun,” Mamoru agreed. “But you never answered my question.”

                “What question?”

                “What would we do on a date?”

                “Are you asking me on a date?” Usagi employed her go-to tactic for avoiding answers; ask another question.

                “Well, don’t you think we should go out at least once before the wedding?” He winked, and Usagi burst into a fit of giggles. Her laughter was contagious; a sound Mamoru would never tire of hearing.

                She lopped her arm through his, looking up at him as they crossed the street. “I guess we should,” she said, the weight of years of supressed feelings lifting from her shoulders. “Mamo-chan.”

 


End file.
